


Warrior's Lament

by Jezebot



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Missing Scene, Songfic, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 15:44:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4612305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jezebot/pseuds/Jezebot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Sif and Volstagg are on their errand to Knowhere, Sif takes a moment to confront her heartache.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warrior's Lament

Just like that he was gone again, returned to Midgard. Refused his rite as King to reunite with his new team.

To be with her.

I have found a moment to be alone in my thoughts. Volstagg is off exploring this bizarre mining outpost known in otherworldly tongue as Knowhere, so my only company is this blue liquid that poorly substitutes a good, reliable ale. There are better ways for a warrior to spend her time, yet I cannot bring myself to figure out what they are. I will regret my actions later.

What is it these Avengers possess that Thor’s faithful warriors, his friends for hundreds of mortal lifespans, do not. What is so special about Jane Foster? Is it her studious nature? Do opposites indeed attract? If that be the case, I wish I’d known a millennia ago that the momentum of my heart could have been redirected.

I am fool.

Yet I love him still, no matter his choices. It is a love shared among my comrades, a loyal love, honorable, and supportive. A love that desires his happiness over his company…

[Far easier said than done.](https://youtu.be/g5ixeG3VWw8)

What has he reduced me to. What would the battalion think? Could they continue to follow an officer so easily struck down? Drowning her sorrows in alien brew. A victim of her own misguidance. It was enough to ask them to follow a maiden.

He always supported me when the subordinates questioned, always ordered them into the ring where my sword would prove wrong their doubt, and they acquiesced on fallen knee. The entire time, I thought my strengths impressed him beyond a friend’s admiration, but it turned out his fancies prefer strength of intellect. A maiden bound to books. Something I will never be nor desire to.

I am a warrior as I was forged to be. The might of my swing as crushing as the weight of my heart, and when my blow does not kill then I will be struck down valiantly. It is the burden I must bear, to love sacrificially as a soldier does for their realm. To keep a lofty chin while my blood pools at my knees and my tears dammed. To die invisibly without the promise of Valhalla.

This is the duty I am sworn to.

Here comes Volstagg, his grin anxious to apprise of his adventures. I must wear a smile for him.

***

(I’m stopping here but I don’t want to. Volstagg would see right through her fake smile and would then order her to speak her mind after ordering them both a four course meal. And Sif would spill it because how could you refuse a pal like Volstagg.)


End file.
